Come live with me and be my love
by nyakattia
Summary: ...But nothing is ever that simple for Stella and Flack. Established Fiesta and DL.


She stormed into the apartment, not even looking behind her as she swung the door shut. Flack caught it with the palm of his hand and walked in behind her, shutting the door with a little less care than usual. The slam of it echoed in the small apartment. She was already in the kitchen, banging cupboard doors and clanging crockery together.

He could remember watching similar confrontations with his parents when he was a child. His father, a stubborn Irishman, and his mother, a fiery Italian, could start bickering at the drop of a hat. His mother had always retreated to the kitchen, his father to the den.

"Sometimes you just gotta let 'em fight it out," Don Flack Sr. had told his eight year old son. "And it's better they do it with pans than with your head."

A few hours later, everything would go back to normal. The two of them would forget what they were arguing about and return to cuddling and kissing on the couch. Much to the disgust of their five children. His parents weren't Catholic- they just couldn't keep their hands off each other.

Flack peeked into the kitchen for a moment and could tell from the arch of her neck and the way her shoulders were set that she was still mad at him. He headed back out into the lounge and collapsed onto the sofa, flicking on the television, tugging on his tie and loosening it until he could pull the ends free of the knot. Mindlessly, he watched some early New Years Eve broadcasts.

Danny and Lindsay were having a party at their apartment to ring in the new year, and Flack and Stella were expected. Given the argument they were having, he didn't know if they would make it there or see the new year in sitting at opposite ends of the short couch in stony silence.

Eventually she came out of the kitchen with two plates of the leftovers from last night's dinner. He took one gratefully, knowing that she must have calmed down a little or she would have made him fetch his own meal. He barely payed attention to what he ate, trying not to watch her too much as she stared at the brightly colored images on the television screen.

Finally, after they had finished eating and their plates were on the side table, out of the way, she spoke. "What are we doing here?"

He turned to her and frowned, instinctively knowing she was referring more to the state of their relationship than the meaning of life. "Are you kidding me?"

She looked at him and he noticed that her eyes were no longer snapping with temper as they had been earlier. Instead she just looked tired. "I mean it Don. All we do is fight."

"But I like fighting with you," he said, and she bared her teeth at him. She attempted to stand and walk away but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down close beside him, wrapping his arms around her.

He put his mouth close to her ear. "We've been fighting since I was a lowly third grade you liked to boss around at crime scenes. All that unresolved sexual tension."

She snorted dismissively and shook her head. Picking up the remote off the coffee table she clicked off the television and the apartment fell silent. "Don't try to distract me. I mean it Don, maybe we should take a break."

Though he knew her words spoke more from fear of commitment, than any desire to break up the relationship, they still struck a painful chord in his heart. "Bullshit, Stella."

She turned to glare at him. "Don't you dare-"

"Shut up," he said forcefully but without any violence in his tone. Her eyes widened and she closed her mouth, more, he suspected, from surprise than actual compliance. Before she could start arguing again, he leaned down and kissed her fiercely.

She responded heatedly, the passion of the argument carrying over into the kiss. This is how it always was for them. Many of their arguments were solved in the bedroom after they had properly exorcised their demons. But he wanted to resolve this issue sooner rather than later and gentled the kiss, soothing her for a moment before drawing away.

He kept one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other lightly running through the curls that had fallen around her face. "Are you ready to talk now?"

She rolled her eyes and sent him a glare. She was not used, even now, to losing arguments. "I've already said what I wanted to say. This isn't working for me."

He caught the flicker of her eyes away from his as she repeated the last sentence. Liar. "And if I thought you really believed that, I would go home right now."

He watched her reaction and smiled. "So it's a good thing I know you." He sighed. "I fucking love you Stella."

She glared at him again. "You can't just say that and expect me to agree with you on everything."

"Alright." He stood, disentangling himself from her, and leaving her on the couch as he moved away. "You don't have to move in with me if you don't want to."

"Then what the fuck are we arguing about?' she asked, standing, her arms folded across her chest.

He turned to face her. "I could move in here. Or we could find someplace together. But you know, I like it here. Closer to 1PP for one thing. And my lease is up next month anyway."

He smirked as she clenched her hands at her sides. She looked about ready to hit him- or throw something at him. "You arrogant, conceited-"

That was she far as she got before he covered the distance between them in one large stride and took a hold of her shoulders. "Stella, do you love me?"

She stopped, and growled at him a little. He waited, staring into her eyes and daring her to be the one to look away first. He won. "Fuck you, Donald Flack," she said without any real venom in her tone. "You know I do."

"Then you gotta explain it to me, babe. I'm here most days of the week. Do I make too much mess? Do you not like the way I wash dishes?" She rolled her eyes at him. "'Cause I'm sick of waking up somewhere you're not."

She shut her eyes, screwing them up tightly. "I really hate you, you know that."

"Yep. Come on Sella," he moved closer, sliding his hands down her arms to take her hands in his. He leaned down and kissed her. "Take a chance on me."

It took a moment for her to reopen her eyes and look into his, and another to reply. "We share the cooking and cleaning fifty-fifty."

He grinned. "Of course."

"I mean it, I'm not cleaning up after you. And we-" She was cut off when he kissed her again.

She frowned at him. "We're keeping my furniture."

"Okay," he was still grinning. He would agree to practically anything now that she had said yes. "Whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" she repeated, her smile suddenly a little sly.

He swallowed. That smile usually meant trouble for him. "Within reason."

"Of course," she said, and reached up to pat his check in the same way his grandmother did before she started asking all sorts of uncomfortable questions.

He pulled her even closer to him with his free hand, the other still holding hers at their sides, and kissed her again to seal the deal.

"I still think we argue too much," she told him with a slight frown. But she kissed him again anyway, before pulling away completely. Pulling her hair out of the elastic band, she walked into what would soon be their bedroom. He followed, leaning against the door frame as he watched her undress.

"Maybe you should just agree with everything I say." He laughed as she rolled her eyes. "Hey, at least I wasn't the one proposin' tonight."

She paused, clad in just the underwear he had seen her put on that morning, holding her clothes in her arms. After a moment she seemed to relax, just a little, her forehead smoothing out. "Danny's proposing? At the party?"

"Yeah, he showed me the ring this morning."

She dumped the clothes in the hamper and flicked it closed. Taking the dress she would wear that night out of the closet, she walked into the bathroom. And he said, mostly to himself, "I know better than that."

When he looked up, she was standing in the bathroom doorway, looking at him, naked but for those scraps of cotton and lace, and the curls falling to her shoulders. There was something in those clear green eyes he had never seen before, and it took him a moment to decipher.

"Might change my mind about that though, sometime," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He walked over to her, stopping close. Leaning down, he kissed one bare shoulder. "Go on, have a shower. Then we can go to my place on the way to Danny's and you can insult my ties."

They had a new year to see in, together. And as far as Flack was concerned, it was going to be a pretty damn good one.

--

A very happy and safe new year to all of my readers. I hope this one is even better than the last. The title is from Christopher Marlowe's _The Passionate Shepard to His Love._


End file.
